9 posts tagged “frank”

I'm in hiding.  If you can find me, you'll know why.  Okay, I won't make it that hard - just tag it.

We are in the process of moving.  We started slow and are building up to a crescendo that I fear is going to leave me breathless and surrounded by a ton of boxes.  As it stands, enough has been moved for us to start living in the new house.  It's an old Victorian with plenty of nooks and crannies to fill with my furniture and crew.  Already, the dog has chosen her room and so have the cats.  They are adjusting amazingly fast to the space.  The puma spent his first hour out of the cat room going from room to room and finding the exact middle of the floor to flop over and stretch out as long as he could stretch.  Finding no obstructions or objections, he would quickly get up and move to the next room to repeat the process.  It was amusing to watch.  The little ones took a little longer, hiding on the stairs at first and running along with me until they felt comfortable enough to explore on their own.  Hobbit quickly found the coat closet and has dubbed that "Hobbit's Crook".  The shoes don't mind too much.  Harvey is... Harvey.

Last night was our fourth night camping out in the new living room.  We were settling down and getting sleepy when we saw headlights reflected on our wall.  Not a big surprise as one of the first things I noticed is that our driveway seems to be a magnet for turnarounds on our street (no more cul-de-sac for us, I'm afraid!) and use as our neighbor's parking guide.  Not a huge problem in the scheme of life in a new house.  Could be worse, right? Uhm...  a few minute's later we hear talking and shouting from the front of the house.  Frank looks out the window and there is a van parked in our driveway, with it's owner having an animated conversation with someone(s) out in the street.  The woman by the van asks for Frank's help in moving the van out of our driveway as she "has no reverse".  Frank puts on his shoes and a coat but by the time he gets out there, (and I look out the door) the cops have arrived.  Grabbing my coat and slippers, I join Frank on the porch as we are entertained by the cops dealing with the woman and the men who were following her.  Apparently she knew a criminal element we'll just refer to as D-man and the cops suspected her of being in cahoots with him.  The cops didn't believe her when she said she was being stalked by the men in the other car and she didn't know where D-man was.  They let the other car go and proceeded to confiscate the alcohol in her van and administer a sobriety test.  She passed with flying colors and because they knew her, despite having no license, she was let go.  One of the cops and Frank pushed her out of our driveway.  As Frank and I start to head back in, one of the cops calls out from their patrol car, "Welcome to the neighborhood" and laughs a bit maniacally.  I don't think he meant to laugh like that, but it can't be a good sign.  As we go to shut our front door, we notice that the other car had circled back and the cops pulled it over again (the woman in the van was still sitting down our street).  At that point it had ceased to be funny and we were just tired.  We went inside, shut the door and tried to relax once again.

I don't know yet if I'd prefer our old crazy over this new oddity.  Dealing with "an outside cat" and the occasional firecracker is not that bad compared to what we witnessed last night.  On the other hand, that crazy was a daily/weekly occurrence.  If this new crazy only rears it's head once in a while, I can deal with it.

Okay, so I went camping and came home today (Frank, in a brilliant show of love, brought our puma along for the ride (he had to pick me up from mom's) and when I finally walked through my own front door, I was covered in cat pee and cat vomit - YAY) in a mix of feelings.  Exhaustion, disgust, love, happiness, irritation... you get the idea.

Anyways, the point is, Sunny came over because she had also been on a road trip and she missed us.  Well, we missed her too... I didn't mean to imply that we didn't.  Seriously!!!!

I think I lost my point again.  Let me go sharpen my wit.

We're all sitting here Stumbling, playing games, trying to find a new puppy (we just recently had to give our dog to his old owners - it was hard but best for all), watching tv and generally doing what we usually do on any given day.  Three computers, one wall of tv, three cats running around, and three humans chittering away all added up to a lot of noise.

We almost missed it.

A new commercial pops up on tv and no one was quick enough with the remote, fortunately.  It's some dentistry commercial (toothpaste, mouthwash, whatever) and all of a sudden we hear "your teeth are alive".  Everything comes to a screeching halt.  Puppies and Stumbles are forgotten.  Computer games end in death.  At the same time, all three of us burst out laughing and start ripping out quips.

The best one: "They're biting me!"

Seriously, think about that the next time you chomp down on that piece of steak.  Your teeth just may be vegan.

THE MORE YOU KNOW!!!

Last weekend Frank and I headed up to the great wilderness of upper lower Michigan to join a part of my family on their property.  Fun was had by all - on the drive up, during our stay and on the way down.  We took the temporary truck (don't ask...) and it's a 81 Chevy LUV diesel.  It goes at a top speed of 70.  If you're going downhill.  Down a steep hill.*

Anyways, we left Friday afternoon and snail trailed our way up to Hawks.  Getting "lost" thanks to faulty directions (there IS no F109 (road signs), just to let you know) but thanks to kindhearted locals, found our way into the wilderness.  I got ice cream.

We arrived before anyone else, so we broke out our hammocks and built a fire.  I promptly fell asleep only to awaken to find my sister leaning over me, staring at me.  It's not a thing you want to wake up to from a deep sleep (I was really really tired after driving almost the entire way and getting a good sunburn to boot) and it didn't help that it was combined with my mother peering over HER shoulder.  It took me a while to calm down my heartbeat.

The next day, instead of relaxing, we headed out to some art fair/carnival monstrosity in a nearby town.  I say monstrosity, but in all fairness (ha, get it?  it's a pun!!  okay, I'm lame.) it was pretty cool.  Better than the local horror of an art fair - pretty much because this had some fun rides.  We strolled around the art fair part, losing bits and pieces of the family as we walked but rejoining in the breaks.  Most of the time was spent riding the rides.

I had a blast.  Screaming on The Loop.  Laughing as my family made crude jokes on the Merry-Go-Round.  Freaking out on the Tilt-O-Whirl because the certain car my mom and I occupied seemed to be possessed and was whirling with the intensity of a thousand jet rockets.  Even her stomach flipped on that one.  Possessed I tell you.

The best part of the day though (at least, in the fair hours) was on the Ferris Wheel when I was paired with my ex-step-father (again, if you have to ask, don't).  There's been a few issues there and it was really nice to "reconnect" over good memories of the past.  If nothing else, the trip was worth that.

But then we all went back to the property and built a huge frakkin' bonfire (in one of those portable firepit/grill things - I never knew they could handle a fire like that - I saw blue flames).  Frank was his normal charming self during dinner and had the table in stitches over the word "fuck".  We topped off the night by toasting s'mores in the dwindling fire and watching the stars pop out in the sky.  We pointed out satellites to each other, commented on the wild ducks in the area (and the fowl stench), argued over who saw the Milky Way first and where (I won) and even saw a few shooting stars.  It was a truly amazing night.

We found out the windshield wipers didn't work.  Thankfully before we hit the road on Sunday and were able to fix them, at least to the point of some usability.  And drove home in the misty rain.  Yay home.

OH!  I almost forgot the absolute best part of the entire trip.  Our truck, we admit, looked a bit like Jeepers Creepers truck (there's a meat hook on the back end...) but it was nothing compared to what we ran across when we got off the main highway.  We're driving along, minding our business when a sign catches our eye.  Mind you, we saw all of this in the space of only a few seconds.  The sign said "The Adult Store" but the building was an old gas station.  The building had a shack to one side with the real Jeepers Creepers truck half in and half out of the shack, with a blue tarp hiding part of it as well.  It was very disturbing and a bit funny at the same time.

It feels good to be home.

*we think.  the speedometer is "broken" because of tires that are a couple of sizes too large for the vehicle.  The speedometer topped off at a paltry 57 - but we were passing a few vehicles.  Maybe three.  And they passed us the next time we went up a hill.

Frank and I bought a deep fryer yesterday.  He's introduced me into the extreme decadence of homemade tortilla chips and the new fryer makes it easier and faster to fry.  We have a dinner party tonight and I made a big box of chips to go with the fajitas planned.  I tell you what... if you like tortilla chips, there is nothing better.  Not to mention cheap as dirt.  As long as you go to the city planner and not the local garden shop.  HA!!  Okay, my point is this.  I can't do much, because of my back, but I can fry the grease right out of a tortilla.  And they are sooo good.  You know, not that I'm bragging.  Or anything.  The great thing is you can vary the size of the chip.  Make them bigger or smaller than store bought chips.  You can even make fancy shapes if you feel so inclined.  How awesome is that?  Plus... after the initial cost of the deep fryer - grease and tortillas are pretty cheap when you compare the price per chip, bag to box.  Oh, and the chips turn out as thick as buying Tostito's Gold chips which makes them great for dips.  The best part - in my opinion - is the ability to control the sodium content.  You know exactly what's going in the fryer and on the chip in the end.

I like control.

Our nob-lickers, I mean neighbors, are in rare form today.

Frank goes out to bring in the garbage can and runs into our landlord.  She proceeds to tell him the following story, which just happened.

She's getting rid of some old things and there have been people coming and going pretty much all afternoon.  Her sister came over to help her and parked down the street, in front of a neighbor's house.  Let's call him Hick.  She gets out and starts to walk down the street when the hick comes home.  He asks how long is she going to be parking there.  She explains that as soon as a person comes to pick up some items, she'll move her car.  He then sneers, "Why don't you move it now?"  Mind you there is plenty of room behind his wife's van to pull his truck into the driveway and even more room on the other side of his driveway and down the street.  Okay, so why doesn't she park there?  That spot was the closest to our landlord's house and she (as well as her sister) are on the older side of life.  Much older.  And Hick is all of forty, maybe.

This is also the same family that allows their kid to yell out things like "stupid noblicker idiot" to the other neighbor's son (who retorts back in the same, if not worse, language) and no one stops them.  The kids have also climbed the tree in our front yard until our landlord put netting around it.  Now they reach through and throw the mulch at each other.  The boy also drives his little moterbike through everyone's yard, dry or wet.  And nothing is said or done.

Sometimes people amaze me with the level of entitlements they think they deserve.

When I got him as a kitten, I repeated the mantra "he's just a kitten, I do love him" more times than I care to admit.  Now, more than two years later, I find myself in a somewhat similar state of mind.  He is no longer a kitten, or anything that resembles a cute fist sized ball of fluff.  He's still as fuzzy and fluffy - just 18 pounds instead of 3.  But I think he still thinks he is a kitten.

Today, per norm, all three cats were ripping around the duplex chasing each other up and around, over and under.  Nothing really new or exciting, but usually entertaining.  I'm sitting in the middle of the couch, playing a computer game, when all 18 pounds of furball come flying up over the laptop arm (attached to the back of the couch) and... well, at least he tried... onto the windowsill.

Unfortunately the windowsill is about three inches deep (I've heard him hit his head before many times when he tries to jump onto it) which is about as deep as his front paws.  Don't believe me?  I'll try to find the picture of one kitten paw taking up the entire top of a pop can.  Also unfortunately, for me, the cushion at the back of me had been sliding down.  This made the large tube behind my head (part of the cathouse we moved - long story) unstable.

He hits the window with his head and grabs for purchase on the cat tube. 

With his back claws.

Slips.

I've now got two stitches on my neck and a multitude of bandages down the left side of my back.

I also found out what makes Frank faint.  The guy who can step on a nail, pull it out and go back to work like nothing is amiss.  The guy who says nonchalantly "I think I broke my thumb again" as he comes home from work.  The guy who is brought to his knees and to the point of fainting seeing me in pain.

And what is the monster behind the whole ordeal doing?  Sleeping on top of the sheepskin as if it's just like any other day.

I love him.  I really, really do.

After dinner I needed a little chocolate fix and I opened the pantry door, remembering that I had saved a chocolate snack cake just for a time like this.

There's no cupcake.

I turn around to Frank and ask, "Did you eat the last cupcake?"

His only defense - "It orally raped me."

He says things like "Timmeh Timmeh Jimmeeh Jaffa Kree Timmah" while we're watching Stargate.  It's a somewhat old episode - Colonel O'Neill and the replicators are in it - and he's making fun of how the Jaffa warriors sound like Timmy from South Park.  I love this man.

In related news: I have something else to crave and wait for.  Stargate continues it's last season on April 6th.  A third Stargate series is being produced this year.  Two Stargate movies, direct to DVD, are slated to be released this year with more to come - "one every year or so" they say.  Stargate: Atlantis will have a fourth season.  Yes, I am a nerd and damn proud of it.